


today's another day to find you

by canistakahari



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gift Giving, M/M, Multi, Phobias, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 11:10:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6192733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canistakahari/pseuds/canistakahari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>five times arin got dan a gift, and one time dan tried to get a gift for arin</p>
            </blockquote>





	today's another day to find you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mackem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mackem/gifts).



> the truest sign of friendship is when your buddy betas a fic for you even though they're not remotely in the fandom. thanks, psikeval, you are the actual best <3
> 
> also i wrote this for vicky because i love her :*
> 
> honestly, though, don't even look at me and the ongoing tire fire that is my rpf hell [gestures helplessly]

**november 2013**

“Here,” says Arin, apropos of nothing, returning to the game room and dumping a bag of Skittles into Dan’s lap.

 

It’s not one of the regular, human-sized packages. It’s a king-sized, resealable bag, and it weighs over three pounds.

 

Arin lets this monster bag of candy drop directly onto Dan’s dick, and Dan folds up like a plastic chair and lets out a startled yelp, rolling quickly sideways to eject the bag from his person. “Jesus _Christ_ , Arin!”

 

“Yeah?” says Arin, retaking his seat on the couch right next to him, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I saw this at Costco and thought of you.”

 

“I mean— _fu_ —t-thank you,” stammers Dan, because it’s a gift, from Arin, and Dan is polite. He thought Arin had gone to the bathroom in the pause between episodes, but apparently he’d gone to retrieve Skittles. For Dan. He picks up the bag with both hands and grunts dramatically as he hefts it into the air like it’s a new baby. “For me? This is going to take me five years to eat.”

 

“Or it’ll last a weekend,” suggests Arin, tucking a leg under himself as he picks up the controller. The screen is paused on the Wind Waker menu.

 

“Are you going to cover my next visit to the dentist?” asks Dan, ripping the top off the bag and delicately shaking out a handful of candy. He offers some to Arin, who waves him off.

 

“No way, man, I’m not responsible for you brushing your teeth,” scoffs Arin. “You’re an adult, you can manage your own dental health.”

 

Dan grins. “So you’re just a gateway. You don’t handle any of the consequences.”

 

“Nope.”

 

“My junk is probably bruised, you know.”

 

“Now _that_ ,” says Arin solemnly, turning to fix Dan with sleepy brown eyes, “I can help with.”

 

Dan giggles nervously. The moment passes when he can’t think of anything to say, not even a bad joke, and they go back to the game.

 

Dan eats way too many fucking Skittles and gives himself a stomachache.

 

Arin also offers to rub it better, Dan laughing as he bats away his hands, heat tightening the base of his belly.

 

 

 

**october 2014**

“Hey. I made you something.”

 

Arin is standing at Dan’s door in sweatpants and a t-shirt, his hair wet from a shower. He texted Dan two minutes ago with, _hey, i’m in your driveway, let me in_.

 

“If you jizzed on a canvas again, Arin, I swear to—”

 

“That was _one_ time,” protests Arin, holding out the paper-wrapped rectangle. “ _Jeeze._  You give a dude a physical symbol of your love for him and he gets all—”

 

“Stop,” laughs Dan, taking the package. “Why a present?”

 

“Why not?” counters Arin, stepping past Dan to let himself in and closing the front door.

 

Dan follows him, holding the gift. “It’s not my birthday.”

 

“Does it have to be? Are you the birthday police? Then by all means, officer,” says Arin, holding out his wrists and grinning with a distinctly lascivious edge, “ _Arrest me_.”

 

“Whoa, okay.” Dan carries the package to the couch, turning it over in his hands as he sits down. It’s a frame, obviously. Arin gives him a lot of framed pieces of art: prints, sketches, signed posters. He finds the edge of the paper and starts to peel it carefully.

 

“Oh my god,” says Arin, dropping down into the chair across from him. “You’re not gonna save the paper, grandma, just rip it the fuck open already.”

 

Dan grins. “Is this annoying you?” He picks at the next piece of tape, eyes on Arin’s scrunched up frown. “You could have just put in a gift bag.”

 

“You could just not be a dick. C’mon, man, open it.”

 

“Fine.” Dan grabs the edge he’s opened and tears it diagonally across. He rips off the rest of the brown paper as aggressively as he can stand to.

 

It’s a sketch.

 

A drawing of him, Arin, and Brian as Starbomb, filled with Arin’s characteristic fluid lines of movement and heavy doses of their logo colours. It’s hand drawn, inked over a sketch that Arin didn’t erase. Rough, messy, but fully-realised.

 

“Do you like it?” asks Arin. His face is a little tense, like there’s a chance Dan could say no.

 

“I mean, I was _kinda_ hoping for more jizz,” says Dan, but his smile is lighting up his face as he eagerly hunts out the details, and when he looks up, Arin is mirroring his expression.

 

“Cool,” says Arin. He gets up, cheeks flushed with success. “I gotta go. See you tomorrow?”

 

“Yeah,” says Dan, setting the picture aside and jumping back up to his feet, a little flustered. “Arin, thank you. This is amazing. I—”

 

He leans in, because he has to do something to show how much this means to him, ends up putting his hand on Arin’s shoulder and planting a firm kiss onto his forehead.

 

Arin laughs and pats Dan’s arm, his blush creeping down his throat.

 

Dan is immediately embarrassed. A hug probably would’ve been a more reasonable course of action to take, safer, but Arin looks so fucking pleased… Dan relaxes, shaking it off.

 

“You’re welcome,” says Arin, jingling his car keys. “Hang it on your wall above your bed and think of me while you jack it every night.”

 

Dan stands there, skin buzzing with a weird burst of adrenaline. He’s so choked with affection he can’t make words, can’t reach for an easy joke to reply and diffuse the heavy emotion settling in his gut.

 

Arin lets himself out with a wink and a wave, and Dan just waves back helplessly, overcome.

 

 

**january 15, 2015**

Dan cries through the credits of _The Last Unicorn_.

 

He usually does, let’s be reasonable, but when he’s watching it alone it’s just quiet tears sliding down his cheeks in the privacy of his own home. This time, he’s in a packed theatre surrounded by people all here to share in this experience, and he can feel the love in the room.

 

The entire evening has been a blur of childhood nostalgia and unbelievable events and Dan hasn’t been able to stop smiling.

 

As the lights go up, Arin nudges him, leaning in. “Yo, I got you something.”

 

“What?” says Dan, confused. Arin’s been next to him for the duration of the film. When they sat down, Arin was empty handed, but now there’s a bunch of stuff in his lap, and he’s smiling at Dan like he’s really fucking proud of himself.

 

They’re right in the middle of their row, so they can afford to stay seated while people branch off to the aisles.

 

Arin carefully slides a rolled up print out of the bag on his lap and holds it out to Dan.

 

Dumbstruck, Dan unrolls it. It’s one of the prints from the merch table, which they haven’t even had a chance to visit yet. He parts his lips around a soft “ _oh_ ”, stunned, tracing his fingers over the vividly-coloured illustration of Amalthea.

 

“When did you get this?” he demands.

 

“You didn’t notice when I got up to go to the bathroom? I nearly fell over the person sitting next to me.”

 

Dan shakes his head mutely. He must have been too caught up in seeing the film on the big screen. He’s also dangerously close to tears again.

 

“If you don’t like this one, we can get in line for another,” says Arin. “I also bought a bunch of film frames, so—”

 

“I love it,” croaks Dan. He throws his arm awkwardly around Arin’s shoulders, hugging him from the side, their heads knocking together.

 

Arin chuckles, his hand landing in Dan’s hair, ruffling it fondly. “Okay, dude, put the boner away. C’mon, let’s go get this stuff signed. The line’s gonna get huge.”

 

Dan gathers his things in a haze. He thought getting pulled up on stage before the movie while Peter S. Beagle himself shook his hand and thanked him for the cover song was going to be the moment of the evening, but he was wrong. Dan clutches the print to his chest and lets Arin take care of guiding them out of the theatre and into the lobby, his heart fluttering in his throat.

 

Arin waits in line with him, keeping up steady, one-sided chatter that Dan can nod and _mmhmm_ to, his head somewhere else entirely, until Arin suddenly pokes him and says, gently, “Danny, it’s your turn.”

 

“Oh,” says Dan, putting the print on the signing table.

 

He is then greeted by name by his favourite author, Arin’s hand warm on his back, and Dan could honestly just ascend right on the spot he’s so happy.

 

 

**january 30, 2015**

“Sold the fuck out,” groans Dan, pushing his laptop away from himself. He feels betrayed by it. Technology has failed him.

 

“Damn, buddy,” says Barry sympathetically, reaching out to pat Dan on the arm. “That’s balls.”

 

“The grossest, most wrinkled of scrotums.” Dan pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes and rubs until he sees stars. When he refocuses on his laptop, sitting abandoned on the couch cushions between his bare legs, the web page is still denying him tickets to the 40th anniversary Rush tour. “Come _on_. Tickets went on sale less than half an hour ago! How is it already sold out? This is their _last tour_.”

 

“I think you just answered your own question,” says Barry through a mouthful of banana.

 

They’re both in their boxers, Dan sprawled morosely on the couch, Barry in the armchair. Dan’s been reluctantly awake for about an hour, waiting, and he still missed it. He still fucked up. He’s not going to see Rush at the Forum in August.

 

“This is not cool,” mumbles Dan. “This is super not cool.”

 

“Maybe you can get some on eBay, or something,” suggests Barry. “Stubhub. There’s still a chance.”

 

“Barry,” whines Dan. “ _Barry_. Maybe I can just _d_ —” His phone buzzes next to his hip, interrupting the fatalistic threat that was about to come out of his mouth. Picking it up, Dan unlocks it and scrolls to his messages.

 

A text from Arin, reading “ _check your email,_ ” followed by a string of smug winky face emojis.

 

Sighing, Dan opens up his inbox. The forwarded email sitting at the top is from Ticketmaster.

 

“No way,” says Dan loudly, his stomach flipping. He taps the email to open it, frantically scrolling down to view the contents.

 

When he gets to the order details, he opens his mouth but no sound emerges. He can’t be seeing this. Arin bought four tickets to Rush. It’s right here, confirmed, four tickets to Rush, holy _shit_.

 

Dan leaps up off the couch, arms in the air, phone clutched in his fist. Speech returns to him in a garbled mess. “I’m—wo—f— _fuck_! No _fucking_ way!”

 

Barry chews calmly on his banana, watching Dan turn circles in his underwear, fists punching at the ceiling. “Care to share with the class?”

 

Dan could honestly vomit fucking rainbows. His mood has whipped from deathly despair to all-encompassing joy so fast he’s dizzy. “Tickets!” he yells, brandishing his phone at Barry. “Arin! _Tickets_!”

 

Then Dan’s phone rings in his hand.

 

“I think he’s calling you,” says Barry gravely, nodding at the phone as he folds up his banana peel.

 

Arin’s contact picture has filled the screen. Dan slams the accept button and excitedly yells, “YOU FUCKER,” into the phone.

 

“You’re fucking _welcome_ ,” Arin yells back. “Did you already get tickets? Did we end up with like ten tickets to this fucking concert you haven’t been able to shut up about for weeks? I _will_ scalp these if you don’t need them—”

 

“No!” cries Dan. “I love you! I love you _so fucking much_ , dude, I didn’t get any, they were sold out—”

 

“So much yelling,” sighs Barry, getting up from the couch. “I’m going back to bed.”

 

“I’ll pay you back,” Dan says, lowering his voice as he waves Barry off. “I’ll totally—”

 

“Naw,” says Arin. “Happy belated Hannukah. Happy early birthday. Whatever.”

 

“I owe you, dude,” says Dan earnestly. “Holy shit. You fucking magnificent bastard.”

 

“Just slip me a little tongue when I see you later,” jokes Arin easily.

 

Dan laughs, joy coursing through him. “I will aggressively make out with your glorious bearded face, big cat. Seven minutes in fucking heaven.”

 

“Cool,” says Arin, sounding cheerfully lazy. He’s probably still in bed. “Me’n Suzy will pick you up later for lunch, dude.”

 

“I love you both,” enthuses Dan. He’ll be riding this high for days. “See you lovelies later.”

 

Arin hangs up, and Dan spends the next five minutes standing in his living room, lovingly staring at the Ticketmaster email, his heart so full it might burst.

 

Where does Arin even get off being such a fucking awesome dude?

 

Flopping down on the couch, emotionally exhausted, Dan texts him a message that’s just filled entirely with :) faces topped off with a heart at the end.

 

Arin replies with hundreds of poop emojis.

 

Dan loves him. Dan fucking loves him.

 

 

**july 2015**

One Sunday morning in July, Arin and Suzy invite Dan to the beach.

 

“I mean, I’ll come,” says Dan. “But I won’t go in the water.” He’s kneeling on their kitchen floor, using a shoelace he removed from his sneaker to play with Mochi. It’s not really holding his attention, but Dan keeps luring him back with butt-pats.

 

“We’ll protect your tender body from the sharks,” says Suzy confidently, dropping a huge tote bag onto the floor. She starts packing it with snacks and bottles of water. “Ritz crackers?”

 

“Yes please,” says Dan.

 

“I will straight up punch a shark in the face,” says Arin seriously, thumping his fist against his open palm.

 

“Your fists are mighty,” agrees Dan. “But I’m still not going to get in the water.”

 

Arin and Suzy exchange a look.

 

It should annoy him, being handled like this, because he knows once they get there, Arin is gonna do his best to coax Dan into swimming in the ocean. Arin promised him they’d get Dan over this fear, and Dan has been... reasonably receptive to the idea. It isn’t fun having a phobia that prevents him from doing something fun with his friends. But he also desperately doesn’t want to let Arin fix this.

 

“Okay, dude,” says Arin. “You can hide under the umbrella and read a book like a nerd, or something. Build a sandcastle.”

 

“You can get some sun with me,” says Suzy brightly. “I’ve got SPF 60.”

 

“So I’ll only burn to a _light_ crisp,” says Dan.

 

“Not with this, you won’t,” says Arin, bending to retrieve something from the other beach bag at his feet. Straightening up, he tosses a t-shirt at Dan.

 

Dan reaches up to catch it instinctively, unfolding it and holding it up. It’s clearly thrifted, the Goonies logo a little faded, but it’s soft and in his size and the shirt itself is in good condition. Dan lights up, delighted. “Dude! Where did you find this?”

 

“Goodwill,” says Arin, shrugging dismissively. “It was like three bucks, man, not a big deal.”

 

“I love it,” insists Dan. “Did you wash this? I’m putting it on right now.”

 

“Yeah, it’s clean,” pipes up Suzy. “I threw it in with our laundry last night.”

 

Dan stands up, stripping off the shirt he’s wearing to replace it with Arin’s gift. Turning towards Arin and Suzy, Dan spreads his arms, gesturing at himself. “Yeah? _Yeaaah_ ,” he drawls, grinning. “Look at this hot bod decked out in sweet vintage swag.”

 

“Ho shit, son, where did Dan go? And when did Danny Sexbang get here?” demands Arin. “The level of sexual tension in this room is _substantial_.”

 

Dan rubs his nipples through the shirt, letting out an exaggerated groan. “Oh yeah. Oh _yeah_ , baby, that’s the stuff.”

 

“Whew,” breathes Suzy, fanning herself with her hand. “I’m getting a tan just standing here basking in Dan’s sex appeal.”

 

Flushed with affection and good humour, Dan grins, suddenly a little bashful. He runs a hand through his hair, shaking it out. “Thanks for the shirt, Arin.”

 

“You can thank me with a—”

 

“Hot blowie, yeah, I know,” laughs Dan. “I’ll make it a wet one.”

 

“I mean, I would not refuse,” says Arin, waggling his eyebrows. “But I was gonna suggest ‘a wade in the ocean’.”

 

Dan groans. “I’d much rather suck your dick. I’d _happily_ suck your dick instead.”

 

“You heard it here first, folks,” says Suzy, sighing and straightening her skirt. “Well, I’m all packed up. Are we ready?”

 

“Dan doesn’t have his swim trunks,” says Arin. “We gotta stop and pick ‘em up from his place.”

 

“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice,” says Dan weakly.

 

“Ha _ha_ ,” says Arin. “Tough luck, Daniel.”

 

Two hours later, Dan stands waist-deep and shivering in the ocean, arms wrapped around his chest, his heart in his throat.

 

“I am not enjoying this,” he says firmly to Arin, who is patiently wading in beside him, sunglasses perched in his hair, one hand on Dan’s shoulder.

 

“You wanna climb up on my back? I’ll piggy-back you in,” offers Arin.

 

“That sounds fucking terrible,” says Dan. “I’d choke you with my elbows and accidentally drown us both.” The wind whips at his hair and he turns his face into it, finding Suzy sitting on a towel under the beach umbrella in her cute little black and white polka-dot bikini. She spots him looking and waves at him. Dan extracts one arm to wave back, grinning sheepishly even though she’s too far away to see his face.

 

“You’re doing good,” says Arin warmly. “But if you wanna stop, it’s cool. You made it way farther than I thought you would.”

 

“I thought it might get easier,” admits Dan, “and I was wrong.”

 

Arin laughs, his grin bright in the sun. He was smart enough to bring a hair tie, sporting a fashionable ponytail while the wind buffets Dan’s loose hair repeatedly into his eyes. “You ready to evacuate?” asks Arin.

 

“My bowels? Yes,” says Dan promptly.

 

“Oh, please don’t,” Arin requests. “At least not while I’m right next to you. C’mon, champ, let’s go get some ice cream.”

 

“What if I’m just stuck here now? What if I’ve grown roots? Fear roots.”

 

Arin takes Dan’s hand, weaving their fingers tightly together and giving them a squeeze. Then he just starts to walk, turning back to the shore, and Dan is forced to follow or trip face-first into the water.

 

Relief crashes through him when they finally reach the shore, splashing through the surf, the sand hot under their feet as they return to Suzy.

 

Arin doesn’t let go of Dan’s hand even now that they’re free of the ocean depths, so Dan doesn’t either.

 

“Hey!” says Suzy, propping herself up on her elbows as they approach. She pushes her sunglasses up into her hair, lips spreading into a wide smile. “You made it back alive.”

 

“We made it waist deep,” says Arin, swinging Dan’s hand, flicking droplets of water onto the sand.

 

“My testicles have receded right into the safety and warmth of my body,” says Dan.

 

Suzy giggles, shaking her head. “You did so good, Danny. He did good, right, Arin?”

 

“The goodest,” Arin nods. “We’re gonna get soft serve. You want a cone?”

 

“Oooh, thank you!” says Suzy, lying back down and closing her eyes. “Chocolate, please.”

 

“You got it, babe,” says Arin.

 

They have to let go of each other’s hands to dry off and put their t-shirts back on.

 

Dan finds himself feeling bereft at the loss of contact.

 

 

**august 2015**

“This is _so hard_ ,” complains Dan. “I don’t know what he already has or what he’s pre-ordered, I don’t know what he’s ordered in the last week that hasn’t arrived yet. How do you get a present for someone that literally buys himself whatever he wants the second he finds it online?”

 

Suzy stirs cream into her coffee and carries the mug over to the table to look over Dan’s shoulder at his laptop. “He has that,” she says, as Dan scrolls through ebay listings. “I think he ordered that one, too… it hasn’t come yet. Yep… yeah…”

 

“God fucking dammit, Arin,” mutters Dan. “You asshole.”

 

“Why do you want to get him something? It’s months until Christmas or his birthday,” says Suzy. “You don’t really do presents for stuff like that, anyway.”

 

“Just… because,” says Dan helplessly. “We’ve always just… given each other stuff, you know?”

 

“Yeah, you give him stuff all the time.” Suzy sips her coffee, hip cocked against the table as she thinks. “Books you liked, cool new comics, movies you think he needs to see, music… You just see something that’s perfect and get it.”

 

“Right,” agrees Dan. “But he’s been killing it lately, Scuze. This whole year, it’s been one awesome thing after another. ‘Oh, I got this print for you when I went to the bathroom during the movie. Those tickets you thought were sold out? Got ‘em. One of your favourite childhood films? I scored this sweet vintage shirt of the logo.’ It feels like forever since I’ve managed to get him something cool.”

 

“You know he doesn’t care about that, right?” Suzy asks gently. “He doesn’t get you things because he wants something back. He just loves giving people gifts.”

 

“I know,” sighs Dan. “I know, I just….” He trails off, not sure how to finish his sentence. They went to see Rush last week, Dan, Arin, Suzy, and Brian, nearly eight months after Arin scored them the tickets, and Dan is still riding the concert high. When he thinks of Arin, his chest fills up with fierce affection; he wants to do something, _anything_ , to show his deep appreciation for Arin’s big fucking heart.

 

“Don’t force it,” suggests Suzy, squeezing Dan’s shoulder. “Why don’t you come over for a movie tonight? Just hang out.”

 

“Yeah?” asks Dan, rubbing his eyes. “Netflix and chill with the Hanson-Berhow fam jam?”

 

“Oo- _oh_ ,” croons Suzy, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Dan’s cheek. “Is that a promise? You better make good on it, Avidan.”

 

Then she straightens up and heads to her desk before Dan can say anything, leaving him flushed, heart pounding in his ears, surrounded by the scent of her perfume.

 

He is fucked, isn’t he? He is straight fucked. They’ve got his number and they’ve had it for years.

 

All thoughts of finding the mythical Mega Man or Transformers figure Arin doesn’t already own go right out of Dan’s big dumb empty head.

 

“You okay there, Danny?” asks Barry, startling him.

 

“I am fucking rad,” says Dan. “I am not at all having a personal crisis, thank you, Barry.”

 

“Cool,” says Barry after a moment of silent contemplation. “Do you want some cereal?”

 

“Sure,” says Dan, staring into the abyss of self-reflection. “Are there any Lucky Charms?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Fantastic.”

 

Dan and Barry eat cereal in complete silence together and Dan feels a lot better afterwards. “Thanks, buddy,” he says to Barry.

 

“You’re… welcome?” says Barry, picking up their bowls to bring to the sink. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

 

Dan is in love. Dan is _great_. “Yeah. Awesome.” He turns on his soothing smile and watches as Barry relaxes.

 

He spends the rest of the day dreamily working on music, headphones on, huddled on the couch with his laptop, and it isn’t until Suzy and Arin are standing over him, clearly ready to go, that he remembers their plans. He doesn’t even remember when Arin _got_ to the office and now it’s time to go. He completely lost track of the day.

 

“Oh damn,” he says, sitting up. “Punch out time already? Give me a second to get my shit.”

 

“Jeeze,” says Arin. “Really cutting into primo movie-time, Dan.”

 

“Are you giving me the sauce, Arin?” asks Dan, unplugging the headphones from his laptop before he closes the lid and slides it into his backpack. He shoves in the rest of his stuff and zips it up, hefting it onto one shoulder as he gets to his feet.

 

“That depends,” says Arin, putting an arm around Suzy’s shoulder as they head for the door. “Are you gonna spit or swallow if I do?”

 

Dan dissolves into nervous giggles, cheeks flushing hot. “ _Arin_!”

 

“ _Dan_ ,” mimics Arin. “Maybe you want it on your face instead, man, I don’t know your life.”

 

Suzy leans up to whisper something in Arin’s ear. Then Arin’s gaze darts sidelong to glance at Dan before he hooks their elbows together, tugging Dan into step right beside him. Dan has spent countless hours of his life in the last three years tagging along with Arin and Suzy, and they’ve never once made him feel like a third wheel. They’ve staged a friendship around including Dan in their marriage, and it’s taken him far too long to recognise this standing invitation as exactly that: an _invitation_.

 

They leave Dan’s car at the office and Dan crawls into the backseat of Arin’s car. He tunes out the conversation and the radio, staring out the window on the ride to the house.

 

They’re standing in the entryway, taking off their shoes, Arin already headed for the kitchen, when Suzy takes Dan by the wrist and says, “You know what he really wants, right? You already know.”

 

Dan’s throat is dry. He swallows, nodding hesitantly.

 

Suzy squeezes gently. “What we _both_ want. You don’t have to give it. He’d never hold it against you, if this is all you ever needed from him. But you can have as much as you want from us, Dan.”

 

When he woke up this morning, Dan thought maybe he’d end his day alone at home with grocery store sushi and a JO sesh in the shower.

 

Instead, he’s following Arin into the kitchen, where Arin is rooting through the drawer that houses all the takeout menus, and when Arin says, “What do you want, bro? Chinese? Pizza?” Dan ignores him, taking Arin by the elbow. “Dan?”

 

“I, uh,” Dan clears his throat, his heart thumping against his ribs. “I wanted to get you something.”

 

Arin raises an eyebrow. “Is it your d—”

 

“Arin, shut _up_ ,” groans Dan, abruptly closing the distance between them and kissing Arin hard on the mouth.

 

He doesn’t draw it out; it’s exploratory, testing the waters. Dan moves his lips tentatively, Arin’s beard tickling the tip of his nose, only just parting his lips before deciding to pull away and give Arin a real chance to respond. Arin’s having none of it, though, making a noise against his mouth and burying a hand in Dan’s hair, holding him in place.

 

Letting out a soft sigh, Dan tilts his head, tightening his grip on Arin’s elbow as his other hand gropes at the loose strands of Arin’s hair, gathering a handful.

 

By the time they do break apart, Arin’s definitely slipped him some tongue. Dan blinks owlishly and he licks his lips, trying to center himself.

 

Arin grins crookedly, a light flush colouring his cheeks. His gaze is heavy, scanning Dan’s face like he’s memorizing him.

 

“I wanted to get you something,” says Dan hoarsely. “But you’re impossible to fucking buy for. And the point wasn’t just to give you, like, an actual object. I just wanted you to know how much I fucking love you, man. Right fucking here.” Dan curls his hand into a fist, thumping it lightly against Arin’s broad chest.

 

“Man,” says Arin. “You had to one-up me, huh? Going right for the emotional punch to the heart over grand material gestures. You piece of shit.”

 

“It’s not a _competition_ , Arin!” protests Dan. “I’m not actually gonna suck your dick in thanks for tickets to Rush!” He pauses. “I mean... I’d probably suck your dick, but not in gratitude. I’d suck it ‘cause I wanted to.”

 

“Sweet,” says Arin. “An important follow up question: how would you feel about potentially putting your fingers up my butt?”

 

Dan sputters, laughing helplessly. Overcome, he leans into Arin to touch their foreheads together, the tiniest, most affectionate of headbutts.

 

Arin holds still, giving Dan his moment, before lifting this chin to kiss the tip of Dan’s nose. Another kiss on the lips follows, languid and slow, while Dan lets Arin’s hair slip through his fingers.

 

oOo

 

“This isn’t what I pictured,” Dan murmurs.

 

“Are you complaining?” asks Arin sleepily.

 

“No. Not in the slightest. I’m… so fucking happy.”

 

Arin makes a satisfied noise, his head a warm weight on Dan’s arm. They’ve surrounded him, Dan bracketed by their bodies, Suzy asleep on his left side and Arin sprawled lazily on his right.

 

There _is_ a movie on, and Dan and Arin are ostensibly watching it, but while standard movie nights would normally take place in the living room, tonight Dan is sandwiched between Arin and Suzy in their ludicrously large bed.

 

Idly tracing a pattern down Suzy’s bare arm, Dan cracks a yawn, his eyelids drooping.

 

“Arin… I’m gonna pass out soon, too,” he warns.

 

“Yeah? That’s kinda the point,” says Arin, turning his face against Dan’s throat and snuffling softly.

 

Dan blinks at the TV, not remotely registering what they’re watching. “You want me to stay? That’s... what you want?”

 

Arin lets out a soft sigh, his breath warm on Dan’s bare skin. Tucking his arm snug around Dan’s waist, Arin nods. “Yeah, dummy. Why would I want you to leave?”

 

“Okay,” says Dan, sliding down into the pillows a little, impossibly comfortable. “Okay, Arin. Cool.”

 

“Cool,” echoes Arin, halfway to sleep himself.

 

Dan is definitely straight fucked, in the best possible way.


End file.
